


A Twisted Move from Fate

by MissFaith2018



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: A Conjuring of Light, A Darker Shade of Magic - Freeform, A Gathering of Shadows, AU, Angst, Brothers, Family, Friendship, Gen, Heartbreak, Pain, References to self-harm, Shades of Magic Trilogy, Slight Violence, Suicidal characters, antari, spells, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 06:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15334053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissFaith2018/pseuds/MissFaith2018
Summary: (A Darker Shade of Magic AU)What if Kell and Holland’s places were switched?  What if Kell was subjected to the Dane Twins’ torture instead of the other Antari?***Kell is bound to Athos Dane, and one wrong move could end his life.  With his loved ones on the line, how will the Antari escape from the cruel rulers without being caught?(Kell and Rhy are still adorable brothers, and Holland is still in desperate need of a hug.  This fanfic will be kind of angsty and emotional—you have been warned.)





	1. A Letter to Red London

The problem with hope was that it was hard to get rid of.

Kell sat obediently, as always, beside his infamous king and queen. They must’ve been feeling especially generous that day, because they allowed him to sit down in an actual chair. Normally, he would have to either sit on the uncomfortable floor, and kneel at his rulers’ feet.

“Master Kell,” Astrid Dane said in her eerily calm tone. “It has been brought to our attention that you have not been visiting Red London as frequently as you used to, is that correct?”

Kell turned in his throne, if one could even call it that, and kept his features neutral as he answered the deceptively placid queen. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

Now Athos Dane, White London’s king, turned his attention to the Antari in question. “And why might that be?”

Kell shrugged in an attempt to look more casual. The truth for his less frequent traveling to the ever-prosperous Red London was one he wished not to tell the Dane twins. If only he had that choice. They always seemed to get the answers they wanted eventually.

“I have noticed growing tensions between our two kingdoms,” Kell replied smoothly. “I thought it best to make myself scarce in the case that the Maresh family may be looking for another... Antari.”

The two twins seemed to consider this. Kell watched with growing anxiousness as they spoke in hushed voices just too low for the Antari to make out.

“If that is the case,” Astrid finally said, “then perhaps you should make a statement to show that you are not to be messed with.”

At this, Kell furrowed his eyebrows at the ruthless queen. “Your Majesty, forgive me if I am not understanding you correctly, but what do you mean by ‘making a statement’?”

Astrid shrugged, a small smirk etching it’s way onto her pale face. “Well, Master Kell, if you are indeed concerned with the Maresh family, it would only make sense that we prove who’s in charge of things.”

Kell’s heart stuttered, this was not going the way he wanted it to. “Your Majesty—“

“Kell,” Athos injected, looking visibly annoyed at the magician’s attitude. “Is there a problem?”

He tried to stifle his rising fear. Kell knew that one wrong move could result in a painful encounter with the sadistic king. “Oh no, of course not, Sir. It’s just that... well... I feel like it would be bad for our kingdom if we angered Red London. It could result in... war.”

Athos laughed, it was a cold, hollow sound. “What do you mean, boy? Last time I checked, you were the only one who could pass between the two Londons.”

Kell looked down at a spot on the ground and said, “Perhaps you are forgetting, Your Majesty, but there is another Antari that resides in Red London with the Maresh family. I believe I’ve mentioned him to you before—his name is Holland.”

“Holland?” Athos echoed. “Perhaps you should pay him a visit, Master Kell,” the king mused. He turned to his sister, “What do you think, Astrid? Should we get our dear Kell a friend?”

The Antari’s heart rate increased, the last thing he wanted to do was get someone else involved in this mess. “That really isn’t necessary, Your Majesty,” he stammered, his blue eye flicking warily between the two ruthless royals.

“Hm?” The two turned their icy gazes on the magician. “You don’t get lonely here?” Astrid inquired, her tone eerily gentle.

Kell was certain this was a trap, somehow. They were never kind to him, ever. Surely this was some kind of set-up. He wouldn’t be fooled by them.

“You provide me with plenty of company,” Kell responded with a smile he hoped was convincing. “You’re really too good to me,” he added, trying desperately to stop the situation from turning into something he couldn’t control.

Astrid shared a look with her brother, and the expression they exchanged just made the Antari’s fear grow. “We have a letter we’d like you to send to the Maresh family,” Athos said, an undercurrent to his voice that Kell felt unnerved by. “We don’t want tensions to grow between kingdoms, right?” He said, a threatening smile on his abnormally pale features.

“R-right,” Kell agreed, hoping their conversation was finally over. “I’ll send it right away, Your Majesty.”

He stood to leave the throne room, but Athos put a firm hand on his shoulder o stop him. Kell tried not to wince—it was the shoulder he’d injured a few days prior, due to one of the king’s... harsher punishments. The magician suspected the royal knew as well, because his grip seemed to tighten around his shoulder, almost painfully so. It was clearly deliberate.

“You know the rules,” Athos stated, giving Kell a steely look. “Do not return late this time.”

The magician nodded, ignoring the blossoming pain in his shoulder. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

Kell has visited Grey London a few weeks ago and spent the night there. He found himself trying to, unsuccessfully, drink his burdens away in the seemingly unshakeable pub. It was quite a shame that Antaris couldn’t get drunk, Kell had thought bitterly at the time. If he could only forgot the pain he was made to suffer so often at the hands of the cruel rulers.

When he returned the next morning to White London, Athos Dane looked ready to kill. Kell has received a relatively minimal punishment, all things considered. He had the advantage of healing quickly, though, so perhaps that helped. The cruel and unusual punishments favored by the Dane twins were especially strange that day, and the magician had found himself hanging upside-down from the throne room ceiling for an entire day. When Athos finally untied him, Kell could not stand up. Apparently unsatisfied with the Antari’s lack of wounds, Astrid decided to have him flogged fifty times, in addition to the king’s peculiar method of torture.

Kell had to remind himself why he was still doing it all. He could go to Red London. He could be safe from the sadistic rulers. He could return to his real family...

But, no. No, he couldn’t, could he? Athos didn’t just have his body, he also had Kell’s soul. The king would find a way, the magician was certain, to hurt them. He’d somehow force the Antari to do something, he‘d force Kell to fight or maim or destroy them all—

“We will be expecting you back by dinner time,” Astrid said, bringing Kell back to the present. “Six hours should be sufficient enough, should it not?”

Kell nodded again, feeling even more nervous than before. “Yes, Your Majesty. I will return in time for supper.”

The queen showed a menacing smile, then batted her eyelashes at the Antari. “Always so sweet,” she cooed in her unsettling voice. “Always so obedient.”

Not always, Kell thought darkly. You can’t have them. You’ll never have them.

“Get going, now,” Athos said, finally releasing his death-grip on Kell’s shoulder. “Here’s the letter.” He handed the magician the evelope, marked with the official White London seal.

Kell hoped the letter wouldn’t be too threatening this time. He also hoped he’d get the chance to speak with the Maresh’s about all of this. He wasn’t especially close to the king or queen of Red London, but Rhy...

The Antari’s heart ached at thinking about the prince. The two used to be inseparable. Rhy was his brother, his best friend. Why did they have to get into that stupid argument? Why did he have to fuck everything up?

 

 

 


	2. An Unlikely Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kell returns to Red London with a letter to the Maresh family as usual, but how long can he keep up his charade?
> 
> How much longer can his brother handle it?

Red London was thriving, like usual, when Kell arrived just outside of the royal palace. It was early spring, and the air held the scents of flowers and magic. It made the Antari sigh wistfully, thinking of how this used to be his home.

The magician took the steps to the palace two at a time, eager to see the king and queen of Arnes. If only to prove that he had not been slain at the hands of their notorious neighbors.

“Master Kell,” a royal guard acknowledged as he entered the palace. “You are earlier than usual.”

Ah, yes. Kell usually preferred to visit later in the day, mostly so he could admire Red London’s famous Night Market. The Dane twins were becoming more and more strict on when the magician could leave, though, and they usually didn’t like him out later than six in the evening. Perhaps when he was out so late, they thought he was coming up with escape plans. Perhaps they just didn’t want him making any friends. Kell did not know the reason, but he assumed it was one of the two.

The Antari made his way down the long corridor that led to the grand throne room. It was much more magnificent than the one in White London, and Kell missed it dearly.

“Good afternoon, your Majesties,” Kell greeted the king and queen. “I bring with me correspondence from the Dane twins.”

Queen Emira was always quite fond of Kell, and now appraised him with a look of sympathy. She seemed to regret what had happened four years prior, despite never speaking about it. Kell admittedly did not miss her very much, though he felt a bit guilty for the ruse he’d decided upon the first time he’d returned to Arnes.

King Maxim, on the other hand, had never been to keen on the Antari. The man didn’t quite dislike Kell, but rather chose to ignore him as much as possible. Now, though, the King of Arnes looked slightly more guilty than usual. Perhaps he felt a bit at fault for what had happened, even though it was the magician’s own arrogance and stupidity that had brought forth such suffering.

“Here is your letter,” Kell continued, retrieving it from his worn coat pocket. “I hope things are faring well in this kingdom as much as it is in ours,” he added, though it was strictly a formality.

He thoroughly missed his old jacket—the one he’d acquired long ago by gambling. Its many sides and styles proved to be in a league of their own. The article of clothing was truly one of a kind. 

Kell often wondered what had happened to it, since he’d left it when he’d angrily stomped out of the palace that fateful evening four years ago. He had a hunch that it was still in the castle somewhere, but he didn’t know where.

“Thank you, Master Kell,” Queen Emira said pleasantly, carefully taking the price of parchment from the Antari. “We have been blessed with exceptional weather so far this season.”

Kell nodded, giving a smile that was just a bit too tight. “As have we,” he replied, though the statement was a blatant lie.

“How are you?” Asked King Maxim, suddenly very interested in the magician’s presence. “You appear to be rather... weary, today.”

“I am quite fine, actually,” Kell responded, only slightly sharp. “Thank you for inquiring, though, Your Majesty.”

The king frowned, but made no further comment. Kell turned his attention back to the queen, who was reading through the letter from Athos Dane. “I really must be on my way,” he said, trying to be diplomatic. “I presume you have a letter for me to take back?”

Queen Emira seemed a bit thrown off by Kell’s abruptness, and her brow furrowed at him. “But you just got here,” she said, sounding confused. “Wouldn’t you like to stay for tea?”

He used to, before he’d gotten caught or too late in Grey London. Kell wasn’t going to take any more chances on being late. His shoulder injury was still painful to the touch, and that was only a result of a minor offense. He didn’t feel like hanging from the ceiling again today.

“I’m afraid I cannot,” Kell answered, trying to sound as kind as possible. “Though your hospitality is greatly appreciated.”

“Prince Rhy was hoping to see you,” King Maxim said, eyeing the Antari carefully. “Are you certain you couldn’t spare a few minutes?”

Kell hesitated. The prince was becoming ever distant over the magician’s last few visits, and the Antari was beginning to feel a bit guilty.

“I suppose a few minutes wouldn’t hurt,” Kell conceded reluctantly. “But just a few.”

***

Prince Rhy was sulking in the courtyard, a sight that made Kell’s heart twist painfully in his chest. In another lifetime, he would have chastised his brother for being so theatrical, but now he knew there was no jest in the prince’s sullen behavior.

Across from the mournful Prince of Arnes sat the only other known Antari—Holland. He was trying to cheer Rhy up with some sort of joke, but the prince didn’t appear to find it very humorous.

“Good day,” said Kell, approaching the two. “I’ve been requested for tea?”

The prince perked up slightly, hearing his brother’s voice. For a brief moment, the magician thought he saw the slightest hint of what Rhy used to be—arrogant, prideful, hopeful... But then he seemed to remember that Kell was no longer a part of the royal family—well, not the Maresh family, anyways—and his expression fell, the spark in his amber eyes dimming once again.

“Ah, yes,” Holland spoke up, looking relieved at the sudden distraction. “I’ll go fetch it right away.”

Kell was about to insist that a servant could do it instead, but there was something in the other Antari’s eyes that made the words die on his lips. Holland was the only person that knew the truth, the only one that knew what had truly happened to Kell. Perhaps he wanted the two brothers to speak privately, though that thought made Kell feel slightly ill.

“How are things?” Kell asked, after the other magician went back into the palace to retrieve the tea. “I hear the weather has been lovely here as of late—“

“You don’t remember anything?” Prince Rhy cut him off, looking up from the table. “Nothing?”

Kell took in a deep breath and tried to calm his rising nerves. They’d had this same conversation every time the Antari visited, and it was exact reason Kell was also so eager to leave. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with a tight smile. “Perhaps you have been drinking something other than tea, Your Highness?” the magician mused, trying for a lightheartedness his voice no longer possessed.

Rhy was in no mood for jokes. He abruptly stood up from the table, crossing the large courtyard to where the Antari stood. “I’m tired of this,” he said, looking angry and exhausted at the same time. “I’m sorry, Master Kell, but I just don’t buy this,” he scoffed, saying the magician’s formal title with a hint of annoyance. “I’m not sure what happened all those years ago—“

“Nothing happened,” Kell interrupted calmly, trying to diffuse the prince’s temper. “Whoever you think you know is gone now.”

Rhy shook his head, looking unconvinced. “I know you’re still in there, Kell. No matter what they did to you, I know it’s still you in there.” His voice sounded so certain, so sure, it broke the Antari’s heart all over again.

“It doesn’t matter what you think you know,” the magician forced himself to say. “You don’t know me.” Kell hated how harsh his words sounded, how much they must’ve hurt his brother. It was the right thing to say, though. It was easier if Rhy continued to think his brother was gone forever.

“Please,” Rhy continued, his voice pleading. “Please come home, Brother.”

There was a moment of hesitation, just a moment, where Kell considered the proposition. He imagined what it would be like, to stay in Red London. To make amends with Rhy. To escape the tyranny of the Dane twins.

But he simply couldn’t. He was bound to them, and he’d be a danger to the crown. And he couldn’t risk hurting anyone, especially Rhy.

Kell was about to make some excuse up, when Holland came back with the tea. He seemed to register the growing tension in the courtyard, and gave the two brothers a sheepish smile. “Is everything all right?” He asked, giving Kell a wary look.

“I think I should be going,” the magician responded, his voice flat. “Perhaps I can stay for tea another time.”

Before either of them could protest, the Antari escaped to the long corridor that would eventually lead back outside. Kell wanted to leave before he changed his mind. Before he became selfish and could do anything stupid.

“Hey,” came a low voice from behind him.

“Sorry I couldn’t stay—“ Kell started, but Holland cut him off with a hand on his shoulder, his injured shoulder.

“Kell,” the other Antari addressed cordially. “You can not afford to keep this charade up for much longer.”

“I don’t have time for this—“ Kell protested, shrugging away from the magician. 

“You’re hurting him, you know,” Holland continued, causing Kell’s steps to falter momentarily. “He just wants his brother back.”

“His brother is gone,” Kell said stiffly, resuming his long strides.

“You can defeat them—we can defeat them!” the other Antari insisted. “You don’t have to be their slave anymore.”

“They’re unimaginably powerful,” Kell said, trying to escape into the late afternoon sun. “And you know that I am powerless against them.”

“But maybe if we—“

“No,” Kell said firmly. “We can’t do anything.” He frowned, then, and turned around to face the other Antari. “I can’t do anything,” he said cautiously, trying to gauge Holland’s reaction. “But perhaps you can.”

The magician gave Kell an incredulous look. “You want me to try and defeat the infamous royals of White London?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m not nearly strong enough—“

“Maybe you aren’t, alone,” Kell interjected. “But perhaps if you could find another to help you...”

Holland quirked an eyebrow, his pale green eye wary. “How?” He inquired. “Are we not the only two remaining Antari?”

Kell shrugged casually, though he wore a guarded smile. “Perhaps we are... But perhaps not.” He took a small slip of paper from his jacket pocket, and gave it to the other magician before he could respond. “Look for her,” said Kell, urgently. “She doesn’t know much about magic, yet, but she holds a great potential for it.”

Holland looked down at the paper, and unfolded it to reveal a large map of London—Grey London, to be exact. “How is this going to—“

“Go find her,” Kell said hurriedly, already out the palace doors. “Find her before someone else does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think this chapter’s a bit longer than the last, lol.
> 
> I’m really enjoying writing this so far, and I hope you like reading it, too!
> 
> ~ Miss Faith


End file.
